Thursday, August 17, 2017

“Water is
life's . . . mother and medium. There is no life without water.”

Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

“Water is life, and clean water means health.”

Audrey
Hepburn

There is this thing, the “rule of threes:” You can live for
3 minutes without oxygen, 3 days without water and 3 weeks without food. Look
into this and you’ll find that there are, of course, exceptions. But it does
put into perspective the sense of urgency required when addressing insufficiencies
in these vital elements of life.

The purpose of Global Hope Network International’s (GHNI)
Transformational Community Development (TCD) program is to bring villages mired
in extreme poverty to a state of sustainable self-sufficiency. There is
structure to the approach. When a village is engaged, projects are planned in
the areas of Water, Nutrition, Wellness, Education, and Income Generation. Project details are
based on the current state of the village. But the village is ALWAYS expected
to actively participate in planning and executing the projects, to engage in
the coaching that is central to TCD, and carry out their roles to the best of
their ability.

You might guess from the rule of threes that water is a big
deal. And it is. But it might be even more important than you imagine. This is
the first of three posts in which I share my experiences with TCD water
projects in two villages in central Kenya.

It was a water project that introduced me to TCD in action
during my first visit to central Kenya in 2011. Then, in 2014, I saw first-hand
the issue of water in a new light; it broke my heart and steeled my commitment
to provide whatever help I could to the TCD program.

One of the homes in
the village of Bulesa Dima (2011)

Bulesa Dima was my introduction to the villages in the area
around Isiolo Town in central Kenya. It is at once beautiful and terrible.
Stunningly picturesque; hot and dry. OK to visit; hard to live in. I have had
five opportunities for the former, but never the struggle of the latter.

After the stop there, we moved on to visit the four other TCD
villages. Of particular interest to me was the time we would spend at Ola
Nagele, then the newest village in the program and the one for which I had
become one of one-hundred sponsors in 2010.

Ola Nagele is conveniently located just over 3 miles north
of the center of Isiolo Town and just off the paved highway that runs to the
Ethiopian border, 257 miles away. Convenient, because the people have access to
the town with its markets and because there is a municipal water line running
alongside of the highway. But nearby and accessible are not the same thing.

People in Ola Nagele, as did those in villages farther out
in the rough bush, had to go out and find, collect and carry water every day.
Here is how Wubshet and Habiba Mengesha, GHNI’s National Leaders in Kenya,
described the early days as GHNI began to bring the village into the TCD
program:

“When GHNI started their program in
Ola Nagele, the main challenge which the community faced was water; no borehole
or water stream nearby, but rather the people walk over 5 to 10 km in search of
this precious commodity. The main Isiolo water pipe could not supply this
village simply because the communities are poor and they could not afford the
pipes to pull the water from the main pipe which passes by the main highway.”

It might have been fairly easy for GHNI to arrange a
connection to the water line, but that is not the way the program works. Here
is more from Wubshet and Habiba on how things progressed:

“… we established the (village water) committee
and brainstorm on how to go about this problem in conjunction with Isiolo Water and Sewerage Ministry ...”

There is important information in this statement. All villages
engaging in the TCD program appoint leaders and form committees for TCD focus
areas. GHNI staff mentor the committees as they look for low cost, low tech,
locally appropriate solutions to the problems they are charged with solving. Some
of the most important contributions to the village occur in meetings with the
GHNI staff.

Wubshet meeting with
Ola Nagele leaders

Habiba discusses
water project with the village elder

It was probably obvious that connecting to the municipal
supply would be the easiest way to supply the village. So, discussions included
the Isiolo Water and Sewerage Ministry.
Through their active participation in the meetings, village leaders learned
important skills in relating their situation to others who might be engaged in
a solution.

What happened as a result of
the meetings? Again, we hear from Wubshet and Habiba:

“...we bought pipes and community
digged the trench over 2 km and we also built a tower tank in a central
position where everybody could come and fetch the water at small fee for
maintenance ...”

Building the base for
the first water tank in Ola Nagele

Raising the tank onto
the base

The village welcomed the
flowing water as soon as it was let through the pipe from the municipal supply
and further celebrated when the large storage tank was mounted on its base and
connected to the piping ...

Water is flowing into
Ola Nagele

The tank is connected
and showering residents from its contents

The village could, for the first time, look forward to a
nearby, ready supply of clean water. It was a good time for sure.Coming up next: Life’s
not all Daisies and Hot Dogs

It was listening to this in 1995 that prompted me to write what follows. Not much has changed, but at the end, I do have an update - another song that had an impact as I was just engaging in important things that now occupy much of my time...

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

"Close don't count in baseball. Close only counts in
horseshoes and hand grenades."

Frank Robinson (Time magazine, July 31, 1973)

Close doesn't usually cut it in bicycle touring either. You
pretty much need to finish the route. That is, unless you stumble upon a place
in which you'd rather spend the rest of your life.

The third day of each of the tours presented real challenges
in the form of weather and difficult climbs. In each case, I made it. And I
didn’t make it. Here are the accounts...

I Bear-ly Made It -
CGY

Today I rode 31.4 miles from Red Lodge to the top of
Beartooth Pass, putting in 5,640 feet of climbing on a day when the average temperature
was 38 degrees F.

The route ended at Cooke City. My ride, just a little shy of that!

The gorilla bear in the room made its presence known
as this was the day to go up and over Beartooth Pass on our way to Cooke City,
Montana at the Silver Gate entrance to Yellowstone National Park. Remember the
weather at the end of the ride from Absarokee to Red Lodge? Rain, wind hail.
Well, for today the forecast on Beartooth pass was for cold and snow. SNOW. In
AUGUST!

The forecast was very precise - snow would start sometime
between 11:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. Well, at least it narrowed the possibilities a
little. CGY took the approach of hoping for the best, but preparing for the
worst. The first action in this vein was to announce that the morning
departure, normally between 7:00 a.m. and 8:30 a.m. would this day be moved and
shrunk to 6:00 a.m. to 6:30 a.m. giving a better chance for more riders to get
over the summit before the weather. In addition to this, CGY called in more vehicles
to patrol the route and provide SAG services as needed.

We departed in the dark and immediately began riding uphill
into a moderate chilly headwind. Grades slowly increased from 2% to 6% over the
first 10 miles as we rode through a spectacular landscape of steep
mountainsides on both sides of the road. Here we went from the 5,500 foot
elevation of Red Lodge to about 6,700 feet. The "acclimation" rides
of the first two days certainly helped, but altitude was also going to play a
role in today's ride.

At the 10 mile point, the road went left and we started the
more serious part of the climbing ...

The rest stop was 22 miles into the climb and at an
elevation of 9,300 feet. It was not yet 11 and it was beginning to snow in fits
and starts. The skies were gray and low - well, lower than the surrounding
peaks anyway, which were enshrouded in the mist. The CGY staff was asking
everyone to get some food and hurry back onto the road. There were 10 miles and
1,600 feet of climbing to the summit and the weather would only get worse from
now on.

I think the first picture below, the last I took this day, is
near the 25 mile point. The next picture is at the same location, taken by the
CGY photographer. Comparing this to the picture from earlier in the climb, you
can see that I have now put on my heavier jacket and gloves. The temperature
had been dropping as we climbed and here it was just at freezing.

Smiling? Perhaps not ...

I was tired and when one of the SAG vans stopped to pick up
a few riders, I considered his offer of a ride up to the summit. But, I kept on.
Three miles later, I was at the summit. The east summit. The clouds parted,
possibly out of surprise that I had actually gotten this far, but this brief
glimpse of blue sky was soon a memory as the gray and light snow returned. What
was to come was a 1.5 mile descent followed by a 1.7 mile climb of 425 feet to
the slightly higher elevation of the west summit.

I had made it. There was hot soup for lunch. I was fatigued
and cold. The short descent between summits had revealed a stark reality - the real descent ahead
was going to be cold, cutting-through-every-layer-I-had-on cold.

We were on a barren mountaintop with no facilities. The only
shelter was a number of CGY cars, trucks and an RV, all already full of people
getting warm and waiting for a ride to Cooke City. It started snowing in
earnest and the CGY staff were saying the window for leaving was going to close
soon. If anyone thought they were up to going to the next rest stop, nine miles
down the slopes, then they could leave. That rest stop was at a store, out of
the snow, and more convenient for the ride vehicles picking up riders and
carrying then to Cooke City.

When I heard this, I thought I can at least do this next 9 miles.
But after putting toe warmers in my shoes adding another layer over my hands
and feet the following happened: (a) It started snowing even harder, wind-driven
and limiting visibility. (b) I realized how fatigued I was. (c) I recalled what
I knew about the descent - it was going to be steep, fast, technical and very
cold. (d) I decided I would end my ride right here.

Not so many people made it all the way to Cooke City this
day. And, as almost all of them would say, they deserved some congratulations,
but also a reminder that it was maybe not worth it. Bill was one who made it.
He said the descend was bordering on terrifying. Cold robbed his fingers of
feeling and caused him to shiver enough to make controlling the bike difficult.
Others who I talked to or overheard had the same story.

It was, as one rider put it, an epic day. He went on to
explain that in this case, epic wasn't necessarily great, but a day that would
provide stories for a long time to come...

I Bear-ly Made It - Piedmont

Today I rode 29.2 miles from Acqui to Alba, putting in 2,080
feet of climbing on a day when the average temperature was 61 degrees F.

The route from Acqui Terme to Alba

This ride was startlingly similar to the one over Beartooth
pass considering it was so different. Or, perhaps it was extremely different
for one that was so similar.

We started this ride in a dumping rain. After 2 miles on a
busy road, we turned off onto a short climb; the average gradient was 19% with
a section near the top registering 28%. This was thrown in just to get our
attention I guess. Two and a half moles later we started on a longer climb
averaging 8% again, with a good portion being in the 13 - 16% range. It had
stopped raining however and I could finally put my glasses back on.

We eventually made a nice descent into the town of Canelli.
We stopped for coffee and a navigation update in a shop that Bill and Julio had
been at on a previous ride. The two pictures below are the only ones I took
until we rode in to the hotel in Alba. It was that kind of a day.

On the descent into Canelli

Coffee and navigation in Canelli

About 6 miles out of Canelli we started climbing again,
gaining 1350 feet in 3.7 miles, averaging 7% with the odd 15 - 19% thrown in
for good measure. The first town we went through offered no open restaurants -
Italy closes in the early afternoon - so we rode on, now heading downhill.

It was good to get into descent mode, but alas, it was short
lived. We actually rolled across the top of a ridge, descending a little then
having to regain the elevation on a series of short, steep climbs. After 8
miles of this, we came to the town of Manera. We found a tavern with a small dining area. However, were told upon entering that the
kitchen had just shut down for the break. I think the proprietor saw
our desperate need though and offered to prepare us something. It turned out to be a
hearty pasta with tomato sauce. It did not do too much for us, only saved our
lives! We were very appreciative of this kindness.

While eating I realized that I was feeling not too different
from where I was at the top of Beartooth pass. Julio was actively looking for a
path to Alba as we walked out the door and saw a sign showing we were only 8
miles from town. The tavern owner said it was all downhill.

After a brief consideration, I opted to ride
with Julio and we set off on a very nice descent - the road was not busy, the
surface was good and the curves and switchbacks were gently sweeping, allowing
for a brakes-free run into town.

So it was that we pulled into the hotel, got settled and
enjoyed a post-ride beer before Bill and John came in. They reported that the
route they had finished was not nearly as challenging and father and son got to
enjoy that part of the ride at their pace. Win - win.

We saw the sign to the hotel as we rode into Alba - good thing as the GPS route had us going into the center of the city!

Sitting at a small table relaxing after the ride, enjoying the nice lawn with its bowling surface

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

"Not all those who wander are lost."
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

And Not all those who wonder are confused. But occasionally there are some who are both - lost and confused that is. Take Bill for example ...

You may have noticed that Bill has not been with us on the ride in Italy. And this was a tour he planned and had been looking forward to with much anticipation since the idea first sprouted earlier this year. I think it is about time to tell the story, inasmuch as I know it!

Bill's wife sent me a text on Wednesday, the evening before our planned departure for Italy. She had taken him to the ER with "severe" abdominal pain. Based on his later accounting of that day, "severe" was a serious understatement. This set in motion a series of events, ending up with the decision that Julio, John and I would carry on with the tour, something strongly encouraged by Bill.

Later that night, reports came in that the problem was likely ulcers, but the doctors wanted more tests the next morning. Bill considered trying to leave after the procedures, but by noon on our getaway day he contacted me as I was waiting in O'Hare, saying that he would not be able to make the trip.

End of story, right? Well ...

On Friday evening as I was settling in at the hotel in Alessandria waiting for John and Julio to arrive, I got an email from Bill saying:

"I have booked a flight tomorrow (Saturday)* to take me to Zurich on Sunday then travel to join in Acqui Terme Sunday afternoon*."*my additions

If only it were to be so easy.

Bill showed up at the La Crosse airport for his Saturday flight to Chicago then on to Zurich (surprisingly, there are no non-stop flights to Europe from La Crosse), a destination dictated by seat availability and cost considerations. But, as it was for me, his first flight is delayed, but in his case by SEVEN HOURS! The result was him getting only as far as Chicago late Saturday night with the flight to Zurich now moved to Sunday. The only good news here was that he would arrive in Zurich earlier in the morning than with his first revised plan, giving him more time to work out the train travel to Acqui Terme.

This, as we will see, was a very fortunate turn of events.

So he did make it to Zurich and, encumbered with suitcase and bike (recall that my late arriving bags provided me the chance to navigate the rail system without having to deal with this issue), wandered around the airport train station, ticket to Acqui Terme in his hand, wondering about which train to take. There was one on the assigned track with the destination board showing Geneva. With near perfect logic, Bill thought, "Geneva is probably on the way to Milan and since this is a Swiss train, they just highlighted the Geneva stop."

OK, so maybe it wasn't that near to being perfect. By the time the train reached Geneva, the conductor had provided him advice on getting back on track. With this and some help at the ticket office in Geneva, he was soon on his way to Milan. From there, he was only a couple of Regional train legs away from joining up with us.

Meanwhile, back in Acqui Terme: We were making plans for dinner and speculating on when Bill would arrive. Based on Julio's trip from Zurich to Alessandria, we figured he would arrive before we set out for the restaurant. Later, we waited in our hotel bar until time for us to set out - we had a reservation and did not want to be too late. We would be very close to the hotel though so I left a note at the front desk telling Bill how to find us during dinner.

What was happening out on the railways of northwestern Italy during this time may never be fully known. Even Bill is a little fuzzy on the details. But after leaving Milan, he changed trains as planned, though there may have been a misstep which had him on the wrong train and needing to backtrack to get on course.

Almost on course. Instead of heading to Acqui Terme, he ended up in Genoa. Now Genoa is on the Mediterranean coast and is not usually a stop on the way from Milan. Since he could go no farther south, he was assured of at least heading in the right general direction (that would be north). And that was, at least, successfully accomplished. But there was yet another wrong train choice where he would need to get off the one he boarded and go back to find the right train. However, a fellow passenger who knew something of the system told Bill he could just wait where he was and that the train he wanted would be stopping shortly.

Planned route in blue, actual route (as far as can be determined) in red

And so Bill finally arrived in Acqui Terme. But don't relax - he was not at the hotel yet.

Being as late as it was, there was only one cab at the station and it had been called by a couple of men who were heading in a different direction. But here is a nice part of the story - after a brief discussion, the men asked the driver to take Bill and his considerable baggage to the hotel, then come back to the station for them. During the trip, Bill got an estimate of the fare the men would run up and gave the driver that amount along with his own fare and generous tip.

And so it was that when I walked down to the Lobby at about 11:15 p.m., I saw Bill's bike box near the desk with Bill and John sitting outside, wondering how Bill had managed to get so many miles out of his ticket from Zurich to Acqui.

Disclaimer: This report is intended to serve as a warning, not a suggestion, for use in planing your next trip.

Lessons Learned
Do you have to ask?

Epiloge
It was, of course, a great relief to hear that Bill's health issues were no worse than they were and we all appreciated his presence during the remainder of the tour.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Mzungu / Muzungu"Someone who roams around aimlessly" or "aimless wanderer." The term was first used in the African Great Lakes region to describe European explorers in the 18th century, apparently as a result of their propensity to get lost in their wanderings in Africa. The term is now used to refer to someone with white skin.

I've been called Muzungu in Uganda many times in reference to my skin color. But I have been known to wander around some too. Just recall the accounting of our attempts to get out of Alessandria on the first ride of the Piedmont tour.

Click on the image and you can see my name: "Muzungu." The kids at the school got a real kick out of that!

As it happens, the second day of each of our two tours had us wandering around a bit before returning to our starting points …

Round and Round – CGY
Today we rode 71.2 miles from Red Lodge to Absarokee, putting in 4,846 feet of climbing.

The route from Absarokee to Red Lodge with the out-and-back loop to Nye

On this day we completed the planned round trip to Red Lodge, the town we had departed from the day before. And, doubling down on the round and round theme, we were sent off the direct route to Red Lodge to ride through Fishtail to Nye, returning on the same route before joining up again with the road to Red Lodge.

Today was longer with more climbing, apparently an attempt to get us even more acclimated. But it was another glorious day and the visit to Nye gave us a chance to ride a hilly route through beautiful open country.

The route opened 30 minutes later than normal -- There is a large mine on the leg to Nye and the mining company asked CGY for the delayed start as they bus workers in to minimize the number of cars on the road. They felt it would be easier for the bus drivers and the cyclists to not have to worry about each other. A good plan, but it was the extra 30 minutes in the sleeping bag that sold me.

Along the route to Nye

The rest stop in Nye was at the community's one room school. It is a big land with big skies and big ranches, but not so many big towns. One young girl had set up a refreshment stand, raising money for her 4H Club. CGY had drinks and snacks, of course, but that did not slow down her business at all. When asked about her efforts, she told us she had made all of the cookies and brownies herself the day before and that she could offer two types of lemonade, "pink and yellow." She only asked for tips for whatever you took. But she could sell – I selected a couple of cookies and she said to me, "They are a lot better with lemonade. Would you like pink or yellow." I chose yellow; what else could I do?!

Providing us with refreshments and a lesson in hard work for something you believe in!

As it was here in Nye, most of the people we met while riding all through this area were hard working, independent, tough, resourceful, helpful and friendly. It was refreshing.

On the way in to Red Lodge, we got into the construction zone we were told about at the meeting the night before. The road was seriously torn up and there was a stop light where we had to wait for the guide car that led traffic through the zone, one direction at a time. I ended up in a group that had to wait about 10 minutes which was a problem. It was getting cold and rain was obviously on the way. Exacerbating the chill was the fact that the stop was at the top of the steepest climb of the ride so far, a climb that warmed you up. Once our group got through it started to rain and we worked hard to get back into the camp at Red Lodge.

This can't be good

After getting in, I waited in a fairly long line for a spot in the showers then met Bill under the dining area tent. Our plan was to go into town for a beer and an afternoon snack. And now you know, we don’t eat to be able to ride, we ride to be able to eat! But before we had even turned to leave, the skies opened up and a wind-driven rain poured down into the camp. After a few minutes of this, we were resolved to just stay and wait for dinner which the catering team was unbelievably still working on at the unprotected grills next to the tent!

It would stop raining about ten minutes later, but not before a brutal three minute onslaught of BB sized hail. We looked at each other and agreed to make a dash for the pub where we decided to stay and have dinner. We did meet one other rider who had been on the road during the storm. As you might imagine, he described it as being an unpleasant experience. And, he had just come back from seeing to his sister who was warming up in a nearby hotel room after getting thoroughly chilled.

I should point out that he ride was accompanied by an ambulance and a team of EMT's in a Jeep - they had gotten her warmed up and were involved in the decision to get her to the hotel room. We were being watched over during the ride and I give CGY good marks for their plans to deal with such situations.

The evening turned pleasant and we headed back to camp for the evening meeting and discussion of tomorrow's ride. What we heard was - how shall I put this? - not comforting. The full story will be revealed in the next post, the account of the ride over Beartooth Pass ...

Round and Round – Piedmont
Today we rode 45.6 miles putting in 3,300 feet of climbing.

Routes for our two rides

We rode two separate loops (green and red in the map) out and back from the hotel in Acqui. Bill had some ideas for a ride looping around to the south. But, he was not here, a story to be told in a special edition of this Tale of Two Rides series. It won’t be long now…

Using our map to find a reasonable facsimile of a southern loop, we loaded a plan into the GPS units and set off. Or maybe I should say, we set UP. After leaving the hotel we quickly found ourselves on a very narrow rural road with a not-so-great surface and crazy-steep sections, probably the steepest I'd ever been on. John, an amazingly strong climber (he lives in Stockholm, not a great training ground for climbers, I think), had gone out ahead, I followed and Julio was behind. On one particularly steep section, I heard Julio call out, so I stopped and looked back. He had gotten off of his bike and said that he was just going to go back to the hotel.

It took several tries to get started again due to the steepness of the hill. The cumulative effect of the climb so far and the extra effort of getting started set me up for ---

If you have not read the post Hssssgrrrrhssss yet, you can do that now by clicking on the highlighted text. This 2009 post addresses what happens next.

--- getting off of my bike and, for the first time ever, walking on the climb. As I had said in 2009, I knew this would happen one day and today was the day. To my relief, I reacted as I had hoped, just recognizing that age and gradient had combined to bring me to that critical point where a short walk was just what needed to be done.

I did not have to walk too far to find a more moderate section where I could get back on the bike and ride up to where John had stopped to wait. On the way, I went by a farmer backing his truck out of a driveway. As I went by, he looked at me and motioned with his hand a signal for "this is a really steep road" followed by the sign for "it gets flatter up the road a ways." That's what I got from his gestures, but remember, I was interpreting from the Italian!

It was steeper than it looks. Really!

John and I finished the climb at a wider, better paved road where we took out our maps and discovered that it was the road we had wanted to come up; taking the road that had just beaten us up (by "us" I mean "me") was a mistake. We also discussed what to do next and decided we really should go check on Julio so instead of making the larger southern loop as we had planned, we went down our intended "up road" – a wonderful descent, by the way – and back to the hotel. Not finding Julio, but seeing his bike, we decided on another loop and headed out. We had no sooner gotten underway when we saw Julio walking back from town. He agreed that getting back on the bike would be a good thing so after he changed, we set out together.

We aimed for the town of Monastario where we planned to then plot a loop based on a route I seen on the web site MapMyRide. At Monastario, we left the main road, which had been relatively flat, and began climbing. Again, we encountered some significant steepness, though not quite up the standard set by our "mistake road."

John and Julio entering Monastario

The monastery

Still, it was a long, hard climb, but one made tolerable by the very pleasant scenery provided by the winding road carrying us up the wooded hills, with an occasional farm house thrown in for effect. We finally reached the summit just past the town of Roccaverano and started down what would be an exciting descent.

Near, but not yet at, the summit in Roccaverano

The road down to Mombaldone was steep and winding. Several sections would qualify as "technical" descents. With some encouragement from a broken collarbone in 2009, I've learned to do such descents confidently and safely. But … on this afternoon, we were buffeted by a very strong wind which came at us from every direction, not because it changed course, but because we were constantly going around switchbacks and executing longer, sweeping turns. It was, as I said, an exciting descent.

Station in Mombaldone. You mean we could have taken a train?!

I waited for the others at Mombaldone and once together, we rode that way back to the hotel. All that riding and all that climbing and here we were, right back where we started.

Muzungus!

Lessons learned
You will find that hill that you cannot climb. But you can walk if you have to. Whatever it takes, don't give up, but keep going up...

About Me

I've been riding a road bike for a number of years and have now taken 7 supported and 2 “self guided” (semi-supported) tours. Perhaps I will keep on pedaling... My blogs provide me a place to document the experiences of training for and riding in the tours.
I have also been on 21 mission trips: Dominican Republic (10), Uganda (7) and Kenya (4). From time to time, I divert into writing about these experiences as well.